Belief
by cuethepulse-old
Summary: Written in honor of Halloween. While at the Team Rocket Halloween Party, James falls prey to the sharp, pointy teeth of love. JamesxButch.


Belief  
Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters do not belong to me.

James would never deny that he was gullible. Even so, he was not one to place all his belief in something without being given a convincing reason to do so. He didn't believe in luck or fate. He didn't believe in werewolves or zombies. He didn't believe in love at first sight.

Jessie called him a killjoy, but he was just being realistic. And that wasn't to say he didn't indulge in an escape from reality every now and then.

The Team Rocket Rec. Room was decked out in full party mode. The punch bowl—undoubtedly spiked—was bubbling like witch's brew. The disco ball was down and spider webs that glowed in the dark were stretched across the ceiling. Plastic skeletons danced in the corners, and blood—hopefully fake—was splattered on the floor. The room was crowded, filled with Rockets in extravagant costumes from the disguise closets.

James stood as far apart from the mass of people as he could, gloved arms crossed casually over a ribboned bodice. The full skirt of his gown swished gently around his stockings when he shifted occasionally; the small white heels he wore were a bit more delicate than he was used to. He watched Jessie as she chatted up some elites who wouldn't ever give her a second thought if she wasn't dressed like a sexy pirate wench. Ah, the perks of Halloween. At least she was enjoying herself. As much as James liked to dress up, he didn't care much for Team Rocket parties.

A gratingly familiar voice drawled thickly in his ear, "Good evening, creature of the night."

He _really_ didn't care for Team Rocket parties.

"Botch."

"That's _Count_ Botch to you."

Butch's breath on James' ear sent shivers down his spine and he shied away from the sensation, taking a step forward and turning his head slightly to look at the man behind him. Butch smirked back at him, showing off pointed teeth and darkened lips against pale face paint. He bowed slightly, his cape ruffling with the movement, and addressed James with a mocking sneer.

"_Madame_."

"Oh, shut up."

"Ah, but you look so elegant."

James rolled his eyes and looked away, ignoring the bit of heat that rushed to his face.

"Don't you have something better to do than make fun of me?"

"Indeed I do." And again, his voice was _there_, the heat of his breath returning to James' skin. "I hunger. Let me suck your blood."

James swallowed hard; he felt frozen in place, mesmerized, enchanted, held in place by Butch's voice, words, and heat. He felt Butch's hands grip firmly at his shoulders, lean closer, bend his head down…

"D-Don't be so weird, Botch," James barely managed to get out, his tone much too close to a whimper.

Smooth, hot, smirking lips touched the quivering skin of James' neck, pressing down in something that was almost a kiss before parting and allowing teeth to sink in. Biting his lip to keep from crying out aloud, James jerked slightly underneath Butch's hands and mouth. His heart pounded hard, dangerously close to bursting, and he felt lightheaded and weak. Such was the power of a vampire's magic, or so he had heard. Or was it love? Were vampires and love the same? If not, they were good at pretending to be, because they were both blending, melting together—behind closed eyelids, James saw the image of a blood-slicked grin waiting eagerly at a pure, white altar; when had his eyes closed?

"My poor, lovely Lucy(1). I hope this doesn't mean I have to stab you with a stake."

James opened his eye to find that Butch had vanished. Jessie was by his side, wiping at his neck with a handkerchief. He turned to her questioningly, but she only gave him a wry smile and said, "Should've eaten the garlic bread."

James would never deny that he was gullible. Even so, he was not one to place all his belief in something without being given a convincing reason to do so. He didn't believe in luck or fate. He didn't believe in werewolves or zombies. He didn't believe in love at first sight.

But vampires and love at first _bite_, were different matters entirely.

(1) Lucy Westenra, a character in Bram Stoker's _Dracula_, is the first to fall under Count Dracula's spell. When she becomes a vampire, the lead male characters drive a stake into her heart to kill her. They also cut off her head and stuff her mouth with garlic.


End file.
